


Witchcraft and Wizardry

by flibbertygigget



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Sexism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 05:04:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15502923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flibbertygigget/pseuds/flibbertygigget
Summary: The fact that Minerva became a female wizard - specializing in one of the most difficult of disciplines in fact - was nothing less than a coup in the traditional Magical world of 1960.She had no way of knowing that a witch named Severus Snape was born that same year.





	Witchcraft and Wizardry

The fact that Minerva became a female wizard - specializing in one of the most difficult of disciplines in fact - was nothing less than a coup. In those days it simply wasn't done - wizardry was a man's domain in the Magical world like the priesthood was in the Muggle one. Oh, its disciplines were taught to the female students, in the same patronizing, indulgent way that her father read her the Word from which he would subsequently create his sermons. But Minerva was not supposed to excel at it, much less blow the boys of her year straight out of the water.

Becoming a Mistress of Transfiguration at 25 was just as much of an outrage to Magical sensibilities. There were mutterings about how she had achieved it, mutterings that were outright scandalous in the staid world of 1960. She went about her business with her head held high, but the mutterings stung, especially when she realized they had sunken more than one relationship. It was all rubbish, of course. Albus Dumbledore wouldn't have accepted sexual favors from _her_ even if she had offered. The accusations of lesbianism, as well, were patently false, not that sexuality had anything to do with the mess. She had met more than one female witch of the cult of Sappho.

She had no way of knowing, of course, that 1960 was also the year when a male witch was born. She first heard of Severus Snape beyond simply his name from Harlow Slughorn, the stout and cheerful Potions Mistress whose cheer had been replaced by dramatic fretting after the first day of classes.

"I simply don't know what to do with that Snape boy," she announced when she arrived in the staffroom. Minerva handed her a cup of tea to calm her, raising an eyebrow at the astounding amount of sugar that the witch added.

"Isn't he one of your Slytherins?" Minerva said. Harlow nodded. "Well, what's the matter with him?"

"Snape," Harlow said, "was an absolute bane in my class. Not only did he pair up with Miss Evans in spite of my instructions to go with one of the other wizards, he dared to question my methodology! Him, a wizard, questioning me, a witch, in matters of witchcraft!" Minerva pursed her lips and sipped her tea.

"And what were his questions?" she said, letting a hint of her great disapproval into her voice. Harlow waved the question aside.

"Oh, some nonsense about ingredient purity and heat application. He was parroting his mother, obviously. I set the boy straight, of course."

"It seems as though you may have a budding Potions Master on your hands," said Minerva mildly. Harlow blinked gormlessly.

"Well _you_ may think so, Minerva, what with your... eccentricity, but you really should realize - I mean, it's quite a different matter for a boy to practice witchcraft than for _you_ to-"

"I understand, Harlow," the Potions Mistress sunk into her customary armchair, a faintly relived smile on her face, "and I am looking forward to meeting the boy witch." Harlow groaned.

"You are absolutely implacable, Minerva," she said. "I can only hope that Snape finds his proper niche in your class."

As it so happened, Severus Snape did not find his niche in Minerva's classroom. In fact, he was one of the most singularly abominable Transfiguration students that she had ever had the pleasure to teach. Since she had barely scraped an Acceptable on her Potions OWL, she knew that she had no room to talk. It still hurt to see his frustration when his match stubbornly stayed a match.

"Mr. Snape, stay behind after class, please," she said. One or two of the other boys jeered, either because of the boy's failure to make any change to his match or because they thought he was in trouble, but Snape just ducked his head and nodded.

"Professor-" he started to say when the rest of the class had filtered out. Minerva raised a finger to stop him.

"Sit down," she said. The boy sat, and she couldn't help but notice how thin he was, practically swimming in his second-hand robes. "Have a biscuit, Mr. Snape." He didn't move, and she rattled the tin.

"I thought I were in trouble," Snape muttered as he finally took one.

"Certainly not," Minerva said. "I did notice, however, that you seemed to be having difficulties with the assignment today." Snape ducked his head again, using his overlong hair to block his reddening cheeks.

"I were trying," he said defensively.

"Have another biscuit, Snape. I hope you realize that there's no shame in not understanding the subject right away. Transfiguration requires a unique blend of magical and mental knowledge, and it can take years for students to discover the methods that best suit them." Snape didn't answer, and Minerva decided to switch tactics. "I heard that you were quite impressive in your first Potions Class." That won her a brief flash of teeth.

"Yeah, well, Sluggy didn't think so," he said.

"Professor Slughorn is a rather traditional witch," Minerva said in what she hoped was a neutral manner. Snape snorted.

"You mean she don't think any of us boys can do shit with potions. Never mind that that Lupin kid's pretty good, obviously the only way I can know shit is if I'm just saying what me mum says. She thought I was copying off Lily, too." He looked suddenly glum. "She took points. I didn't even do anything wrong."

"In the eyes of some, the fact that you show more aptitude for witchcraft than wizardry is wrong enough." Snape's blotchy blush deepened. "I expect you have already been forced to deal with certain... assumptions from your classmates."

"I'm not a wimp!"

"I'm sure you're not," Minerva said. "I wish I could say it will get better, but the fact is that it won't. You'll have to contend with people who expect you to be less capable. It will affect every aspect of your life, even parts that ought to be private. If you have any preference at all for a discipline of wizardry, I would encourage you to set aside potions and pursue that instead."

"I'm not a wimp," Snape repeated. "Besides, who are you to talk?" Minerva raised an eyebrow.

"I may be a bit biased, Mr. Snape, but I would not dismiss my opinion so quickly," she said. "I speak from experience, after all."

* * *

For a time it seemed as if Snape did not heed her warning at all. Up until midway through his fifth year, he showed talent in many things but passion only for potions, with perhaps a coveting glance at Defense Against the Dark Arts - more of a smorgasbord of practicals than an actual practice, unfortunately. Minerva occasionally tried to guide him, but truth be told she was glad, almost gleeful at the prospect of a student following in her footsteps.

Maybe it was her half-hearted advice that did it. Maybe it was simply his fate. Either way, Severus Snape seemed to become obsessed with the idea of the Dark Arts almost overnight. First potions, the spells, the latter aided by an ecstatic Harlow Slughorn who was more then happy to give such an advanced wizard numerous passes to the Restricted Section.

Minerva should have done something about it. She should have done something years before, quite frankly. She had gotten complacent, she had to admit it, so used to hearing the accusations and taunts thrown at girl wizards and boy witches that she had forgotten what it was to be affected by them. It was her complacency that made her complicit, that made her stand to the side when she should have fought at every turn. Still, she couldn't give up on the boy yet. She had to try.

"Professor Slughorn told me about what you shared at your career session with her," Minerva said. Snape didn't answer, looking silently into his lap, and suddenly Minerva couldn't bear even a hint of artifice any longer. "Why, Severus? Why would you abandon Potions?"

"Weren't you the one who said that I should become a wizard instead?" he said.

"I did, but I never meant it like this. Mr. Snape, the Dark Arts may be attractive to you for the moment, but you have to know that nothing good has ever come from them." The boy rolled his eyes.

"I'm being careful," he said. "At least this way I don't have to put up with people's bullshit, at least not about this. Just because you were too stupid to change focus when you had the chance doesn't mean we all have to be."

"Detention, Snape. I will not have you insulting me to my face." But Snape didn't seem to care. It was at that moment that Minerva knew, deep down, that something irreparable had been broken. The boy would be lost - only for a time, she hoped, but she suspected that it would be for forever.

* * *

When Snape returned to Hogwarts, tightlipped, pale, and shuttered, Minerva's first instinct was to cut him off, to shun him like a pariah. Even after three years the abandonment still stung - although it hadn't been an abandonment, not really. He had made no promises, and even joining the Death Eaters could hardly be seen as a personal betrayal of her. She was simply bitter, bitter that all her best intentions had gone awry in the worst way, angry that all her efforts had apparently been wasted on a killer.

But then she heard what position he would be taking over.

It was nearly midnight when she knocked on the door to his chambers. He opened it, only a crack at first, then all the way. He looked absurdly young with his bare feet and faded blue dressing gown.

Well, he was only 21, after all. She had somehow forgotten.

"What do you want?"

"Can I come inside? It's freezing out here." Snape considered her for a moment.

"No," he said sourly, but he didn't protest when she pushed past him. The room was bare. There was only a roaring fire and a wooden chair he must have nicked from one of the classrooms. In the corner there were a few cardboard boxes, the top one opened to reveal well-worn covers and cracked spines.

"If you want a seat you'll have to Transfigure it yourself," he said.

"I know," Minerva said. "You never did have the knack for it." Snape glowered at her. "I thought that Harlow would burst when she heard who was taking up the position from her."

"Slughorn never did like me," Snape said. "I was too poor and - and witchy for her taste."

"I notice that you did eventually choose witchcraft," Minerva said.

"And wizardry," Snape said. "You know that I also chose wizardry." Chose the Dark Arts. Chose the Death Eaters. Those three choices were one when it came to Snape.

"But you're teaching witchcraft," she said. Snape nodded warily, but Minerva just smiled. "Would you like a cup of tea?" That made Snape's cold exterior crack, and it was like another boy shining through.

"You'll have to conjure your own chair," he said, "wizard."

 


End file.
